


Everything Changes

by Enk



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto find themselves on a rooftop late at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Changes

**Author's Note:**

> set approximately one week after KKBB

Jack took a deep breath and made his way down the steps of the aerie and across the Hub. The fall of his feet echoed against the tiles. In front of him rose the wall, the wall of graves that none but Jack would ever remember. He ran a thumb over the small metal plate that adorned each drawer. This one was different. Ianto Jones it read in cursive lettering followed by the archival number his corpse would be referred to from now on. Jack caressed the metal plate once more, lost in his own thoughts.

It shouldn’t have been so easy. The trigger had almost pulled itself when he had found Ianto by the conversion unit gun pointed at him. Jack had shot him in the shoulder, but the kid had fallen backwards onto the unit which had activated and torn him apart. His screams still haunted Jack, echoed inside his head so loud and close. In this drawer lay what was left of Ianto Jones, body parts twisted with metal frozen forever. A soft noise drew Jack’s attention and he looked down to see that the drawer was pulled out. He heard the noise again and opened the body bag slowly. Nothing had changed. Jack sighed and ran his thumb over the cold cheek and jumped. It was wet with tears and blue eyes stared at him, hard and cold. And then, there was the screaming so loud his ears hurt and his chest constricted. Ianto’s corpse was screaming while blood poured from the drawer onto the white tile floor.

Jack woke with a start.

“You okay?” A voice mumbled from beneath the covers beside him.

“Yeah.” Jack lied and laid back into the pillows trying to will his heart to slow down. A slender hand raked over his chest and pulled him closer. There, from between heaps of blankets and pillows, two eyes looked at him, half-dazed still with post-coital bliss.

“Sure you’re okay, Jack?” He noticed the perfect french manicure that ran over his chest, almost soothing now. He closed his eyes and the screams started anew.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said, almost fleeing the bed, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” the smile that greeted him was genuine, “was amazing last night. Ever wanna go again? You know where to find me.”

Jack slipped his coat over his still open shirt knowing that this wouldn’t happen. He liked his casual encounters to stay casual and in his line of work, twice was a commitment.  
He walked down the street, inhaling the crisp night air. He shivered as the nightmare slowly began to release him from its claws. The image faded from his mind and he continued to roam the streets until he could only feel a faint twinge in his stomach. He paused and took a deep breath, looking up into the sky, hoping- begging- for an answer among the stars. There wasn’t one. He wasn’t even sure of what the question was.

Then, his eyes fell onto the building in front of him and Jack found himself quite surprised that he was standing in front of the building that housed Ianto’s flat. He should leave. If anything, a clock tower somewhere striking four o’clock in the morning should have turned him away. Jack ran a hand through his hair and groaned.  
He opened the door with his wrist strap and quietly entered the building. Ianto had moved into the quiet neighbourhood after Lisa’s final death. It was mostly occupied by seniors and workaholics, both groups of the population that kept to themselves and wouldn’t ask too many questions. Quietly, Jack walked through the hallway. The building was silent and dark with the exception of a TV flickering from underneath a door here and there, no doubt having lulled its occupant into sleep.  
Twelve. He was standing in front of the door, simply labeled with stick-on numbers. Twelve. He lifted his hand to knock on the door, but paused. Something inexplicable churned around his insides. And then, the Doctor, he thought of the Doctor. One day the Doctor would return and knocking on the door suddenly seemed a threat. If he knocked on this door now, he would be doomed to his existence here without any hope of returning the way he should be.

Jack turned around and left.

***

“Are you courting me, Sir?” Ianto raised an eyebrow at Jack who had just opened the passenger door for him.

“I-” Jack wasn’t sure of what to say and his brain almost imploded at the prospect. Then his charm took over. “Would you like me to?”

“I believe it is bad form to answer a question with another question, Sir.” Ianto still stood in front of he open door. “But if you must know-“ Why was this so hard all of a sudden? They were having a wonderful evening, their first proper date. Not a week had passed since ‘Captain’ John Hart had wandered back into the rift and Jack had shown up on his doorstep without the Great Coat and in a dark blue three-piece1930s (and Ianto was certain it was an original) suit, free-swing back jacket, long point waistcoat and beautiful silk trousers that clung to Jack in all the right places, off-set by his light blue shirt and, of course, no tie.

‘Wingtips?’ He had commented on Jack’s shoes, chestnut coloured, and smiled.

‘The world won’t end tonight.’ Jack had simply stated. And to everyone’s surprise, dinner had come and gone and the world hadn’t ended. After dinner, Jack had taken him to the cinema and he had managed not to go on and on about how he loved going to the Electro as a child and hadn’t been in years and how this was simply perfect. Instead, he had been content letting a smile play around his lips and enjoy the moment in silence. The world still had refused to end.

There had been such ease, conversation flowed and ebbed naturally and the silences had not once been awkward. Now they were standing by the SUV; Ianto’s head was spinning and his brain almost hoped that the world for once would have sense of timing and would decide to end. However, the world was stubborn to stay in one piece and instead watched and waited.

“I just thought,” he finally managed to get out, but Jack ever so suave took the ball from him and went with it.

“Thought what?” Jack was all grins and charm now. “That I’m not the courting type?”

“You always do get what you want in the end, Sir.”

Jack’s grin melted into a soft smile. He almost hadn’t. Spending an entire year chained up with nothing but his thoughts and the occasional death to keep him company had given him plenty of time to straighten out his priorities, coming to terms with his immortality and coming to terms with his feelings. Realizing that the Doctor, while his General and friend, did not have all the answers had been a painful and long process. Truth was, there were no answers to seek and he had been running away from his own shadow for well over a century.

Sometimes though, the world was remarkable and had given him a second chance and Jack had seized it, albeit not as debonair as he would have liked, and allowed himself to explore the possibility of -

“You okay?” He asked a silent and almost confounded looking Ianto. “You look a little-”

Ianto’s lips crashing against Jack’s stopped any train of thought he might have had. What Jack had thought confusion had really been realization. Ianto had asked the question not because he had been seeking an answer but because he wanted to stall. He didn’t want to night to end just yet. It hadn’t been magical or romantic or any of that maudlin drivel one could find in a crappy romance novel.  In fact, it had been quite conventional and calm.  This was what people with normal lives did. To Ianto it was like a breath of fresh air and he didn’t want it to end.

Jack smiled into the kiss. Whenever Ianto was assertive, he felt reassured that they stood on equal footing. Then, Ianto grabbed him by the lapels and pushed him against the SUV. His mouth was hot and faintly tasted of exotic spices, coffee and something distinctly Ianto that he couldn’t possibly describe. When Ianto’s wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss, Jack forgot to think. Fierce passion, emotions raw and painfully real were bubbling close beneath the surface of usually stoic exteriors, and those were about to break.

It was Ianto who pulled away and Jack who was left gasping for air at the sudden withdrawal of warmth. He watched as the young men slid to the side to lean against the SUV and pushed his hands into his pockets. Before Jack could say anything, Ianto have him a smug look and a smirk.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” and with a raised eyebrow added, “Sir.”

“What was the question again?” Jack decided that playful banter was the best course of action.

Ianto rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation but his eyes mirrored the playful glint in Jack’s. “How you remembered your way back to us after leaving is beyond me.”

The game stopped before it had started. They had inadvertently entered the realm of conversation they both had attempted to avoid. Jack, because Jack found the concept of trying to describe emotion with words completely lacking; and Ianto because Ianto knew that Jack’s actions meant more than his words.

“Ianto,” Jack said almost too quiet to hear, “I did come back.”

“But you didn’t intend to.” It wasn’t an accusation, merely something Ianto had observed.

“No,” Jack said, “I didn’t.”

There was the truth. One single true and honest moment and Jack had shared it with only him.

“Why did you come back?” Ianto knew this question could possibly lead Jack to recoil, but in this moment of truth he couldn’t just leave it be.

“Because I realized what I lost.”

Ianto felt Jack’s hand around his wrist, pulling his hand out of his pocket and when their fingers interlaced he knew that something terrible must have happened. When he felt Jack squeeze his hand unable to meet his eyes, he knew Jack (whether in reality or imagination) had seen him die.

“I believe I asked if  you were courting me.”

The kiss that answered his question was surprisingly chaste. There were no roaming hands, passionate sighs, no clutching or tearing at cloth or grinding hips. It was in essence a simple kiss, but with Jack kisses never were simple and Ianto smiled when he felt Jack’s teeth scrape over his bottom lip.

“Nothing’s ever simple with you, is it?”

“Never.” And there were Jack’s arms wrapping tightly around him, pulling him closer.

“Do we have to go back yet?”

“Wanna take off to Vegas and elope? Live in the arctic woodlands of Canada fleeing from our own secret organization?” Jack flashed a grin. Ianto was about to roll his eyes and make a quip about the impossible connection of the three but Jack was already back to earth. “We don’t have to go back yet.” He said and tugged on Ianto’s hand. “Come with me and I’ll show you something.”

“An office building.” Ianto said a short drive later. Not impressed.

“Don’t worry, we won’t explore that particular fetish of mine tonight.”

“We’re going on the roof then?”

“Perceptive as ever, and yes we are!” Jack was out of the SUV and halfway toward the door of the building faster than Ianto had thought possible. “Coming?”

“Right behind you.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Jack grinned and pushed a sequence into his wrist strap. The door opened with a quiet click. There was no need to be sneaking around security guards or cameras. Torchwood, by mention alone, granted them access anywhere. Fortunately they only encountered the latter. As the elevator climbed the twenty-something floors toward the roof, Ianto noted that Jack’s demeanor was changing subtly. He knew Jack loved rooftops and this wasn’t the first time he spent time on a roof with Jack, but it never seemed as clear as now the effect they had on the Captain. When they finally emerged onto the roof, the night was at its darkest, the city sparkling before them. The city lights drowned out the stars here and only a few stubborn flecks were to be seen on the black skies. Briefly, Ianto wondered if that’s why Jack came here so often, to escape from the reminders of the universe that was out there waiting to pour onto them everything it had.

“Usually it’s me who looks lost in thought.” Jack stood beside Ianto and looked out onto the city. It was so quiet at this time, like it was holding its breath before the oncoming storm. And in reality, he knew it was. 21st Century. Everything changes. It wasn’t just a catchy motto. It was plastered over history books across the universe. The 21st Century marked the end of Human ignorance of what was really out there, and it marked the end Human civilization as it was known. They were caught right in the middle, his team, Ianto. He looked at the young man, who had done nothing but being born to deserve that fate. None of them would live to see the greatness that would emerge from such peril.

“There’s something about roofs.” Ianto said staring out onto the city.

“It’s that 21st Century appeal.” Jack looked out over the city. “So many lights, it’s never really dark. Living in an over-saturated world where everyone just wants to be alive.”

“Everything’s going to change, isn’t it.”

“I’m not just a pretty catch phrase.” Jack grinned but it faltered when he saw the determination in Ianto’s eyes. It had hardened while he was gone. When he left he had been a Captain with a teaboy, but he had returned to find himself a Lieutenant.

“How much?”

“Everything. Whole planet. Everything you’ve ever known.” There was no reason to lie or understate what was to come.

“Even you?”

“No. I’ll be right here with my team.” Pause. “With you.”

Ianto set his jaw. The world hadn’t ended but it might as well had. Torchwood was always going to haunt them and in the end they would succumb to it. In the end, nothing mattered. He went to turn away from the city and head downstairs but he never made it past Jack who had slipped behind him, arms wrapping possessively across his chest.

“It’s never in vain.” Jack’s lips were right up at his ear, breath so hot. “Don’t ever think it is.”

With a sigh, Ianto settled against Jack’s chest. The man never not lived in the moment and Ianto began to realize why. Too much, too hard, too fast to cope with, so instead he let it all wash over him grounded only by the feel of Jack’s tongue tracing the outline of his ear. He sighed and surrendered. Jack's hand sneaking open buttons and slipping into his shirt made it impossible not to. He felt Jack’s heat radiating against him, it was almost overwhelming. Lips at his neck, teeth scraping over his pulse, Ianto couldn’t help but gasp to let out the tension that was building inside him. Jack was so much, too much and everything he had ever wanted. And he knew, Jack always knew, and pressed against him, trouser-covered prick hard as rock against him and Ianto rolled his hips keening for more.

Far too quick, Jack spun him around, leaning him against the concrete barrier that kept people from falling off the roof. It was an awkward angle and Ianto should have moaned with pain but he was quite certain that he was incapable of anything but pleasure at the moment. Jack ground against him, breath catching in his throat when he felt Ianto’s hips buck against him, needed to be closer. Moaning, deep from his gut, Ianto grabbed Jack’s neck and kissed him. Fiercely, passionate, needy, tongues entwined, fingers lacing, roaming. Ianto swore the world spun faster now as he felt Jack grind harder, heat pooling between them.

“Need to,” Ianto’s fingers tore at Jack’s belt. “Feel you.” A gasp of triumph escaped his lips when he managed undo it and pull the fabric down enough to free him. Jack chuckled in his ear before biting his jaw and slipping his hand into Ianto’s pants. He smiled when he found the young man just as hard as he was, cheeks flushing when Jack wrapped a hand around him squeezing and tugging, the other making quick work of the button and zipper before he ground his cock against Ianto’s drinking in the sight of those beautiful Welsh lips uttering those beautiful Welsh vowels. Jack decided that his favourite was ‘o’ and elicited with particular enthusiasm when he ground his hips just so.

“Ianto.” He breathed into the neck feeling him shudder beneath. So close now. Cocks grinding slick, Jack took them both in hand, stroking and pressing watching the young man beneath him come undone and it was so beautiful, so enthralling he knew he could never get enough of it. He thrust harder, steadying Ianto’s hips with a vice grip. He could feel Ianto’s heart beat. It thrummed, alive, truly alive and wanting more and Jack would always, always give more.

“Fuck,” Ianto bucked underneath him, chest shuddering with each breath and Jack knew he was close, so close. Ianto’s hand was gripping his forearm hard enough to bruise and it encouraged Jack to pick up the pace, to drive him there. “Fuck, Jack.” deteriorated into a nonsensical string of gasps and moans. Suddenly, he gripped Jack by the back of the neck and pulled him even closer catching his eyes and the sheer intensity of his gaze pushed Jack over the edge and into a haze of want and need and when Ianto tensed, eyes rolling into the back of his head, groaning deep from his gut as he came hard, Jack felt the world explode around him.

It was black and warm. The only noises they could hear were their heartbeats and soft panting as they attempted to regain composure. The world was far away and almost forgotten and it was perfect that way. Living in the moment, it had its perks.

“Well,” Ianto cleared his throat after while, “always said you were good on roofs.”

  
Fin.


End file.
